


friday night and the lights are low

by seekingtomorrow



Series: A Feast for Bros [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Epic Bromance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingtomorrow/pseuds/seekingtomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU in which Robb is a born-again Christian, Jon can’t quite seem to get over his breakup with his ex, and Theon is just along for the ride.  They then use their skills of persuasion to sneak a grounded Arya out of the house for an unforgettable night of idiocy.  Hopefully they won’t turn poor Gendry off of women forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Robb has a red Prius?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note: I've messed with the ages a little bit for this one. Theon is about year older than Robb and Jon (who are now fraternal twins, by the way). Arya is just a few years younger than the boys. Gendry is about the same age as Robb and Jon.

Arya ignored the growling of her stomach, choosing to focus on what sort of hellish revenge she could enact on her sister later. She fumed angrily, reminiscing on the sneer on Sansa’s boyfriend’s face as he explained clumsily though a split lip that Arya had attacked him without reason.

“She’s a crazy bitch! I didn’t do anything and she practically tried to kill me! She should be locked up.”

Arya crossed her arms over her chest. She was still in the same clothing she had worn to school. The moment that she had returned home, her parents sent her straight to her room. She had been sitting in the same spot for over four hours, replaying the scene in her head in which she had punched Joffrey smack dab in the middle of his face. She was pretty sure that she had broken his nose.

However, as much as she (and probably hundreds of other kids) had relished in the joy of finally striking back at the bully who had tortured her and her friends throughout most of her time at that school, her family didn’t. Her parents were extremely disappointed in her. Sansa refused to talk to her. Bran just sort of sighed and walked away. Rickon didn’t really get what was going on, so he decided to get mad along with everybody else.

Suddenly, she heard a car engine outside her window. Curiously, she peered through the crack between her slightly open curtains. Parked in the driveway was a red Prius. Eco-friendly, low maintenance and energy efficient, it was the perfect hybrid for the young lady who wanted something both easy on the environment as well as the eyes.

Yeah, too bad it was Robb’s car.

Obviously she was in bigger trouble than she originally anticipated if her older brothers had to come back home. Maybe her parents would try and pawn her off onto them? Take her to some weird hick town and leave her there until she learned her lesson? Hopefully they wouldn’t leave her with her smelly, senile Uncle Walder who had been divorced and remarried at least seven times and insisted on naming all his sons Walder.

“Arya!” Bran’s voice echoed outside her door. “Come downstairs. Jon and Robb are here to see you.”

Sluggishly dragging herself across the bedroom floor, Arya opened the door and allowed the warm light from the upstairs landing to flood the darkened room. “Why?”

“Just come downstairs!”

She rolled her eyes and proceeded to make her way into the spacious foyer where she could hear Robb speaking rather enthusiastically. He was probably telling her parents about the new Church he had joined. Ever since he had cheated on his long-time girlfriend with his friend from the horseback riding club he had attended in high school, he had turned over a new leaf. After the particularly nasty breakup as well as the repercussions that resulted in him losing most of his friends, he had gone to Church to talk to a priest and seek forgiveness. Then the priest persuaded Robb to join his parish and the rest was history. And now Robb took every opportunity to remind Arya and her siblings that they would go to hell if they decided to forsake Jesus.

“I pray to the Weirwoods!” had been Arya’s scathing answer to Robb’s increasingly annoying pleas.

“Arya,” her mother’s voice broke her out of her reverie. “Robb is here to see you.”

Ignoring her mother, she turned to her eldest brother. “Is Jon with you?”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Robb smiled and opened his arms in preparation for the hug that Arya would most definitely squirm out of. “Jon’s in the car.”

“Jon’s with you?” Her father asked. “Why didn’t he come out?”

“Theon’s with me too,” Robb replied by way of explanation. “Jon’s just making sure he doesn’t try to drive away like last time.”

Arya pouted. Out of the two fraternal twins, she liked Jon much better than she liked Robb. At least she wouldn’t have to see Theon.

“As I was saying earlier, I think it would be a fantastic idea for me to take Arya to my church group tonight. We’re having a discussion on forgiveness and I do believe that would benefit her in this situation.”

“This church outing sounds quite out of the way, going by the address you provided me with.”

“Will you be going with her?” Her mother added, her brow furrowing with worry.

“It won’t just be me,” Robb reassured. “Both Jon and Theon have agreed to come.”

Her father nodded solemnly. “Then I suppose it won’t do any harm.” Turning to Arya who thought she had been forgotten about, he said, “Pack an overnight bag. When you come home tomorrow morning, I expect to see you ready to apologize to both Joffrey and your sister.”

“But I don’t want to go!”

“Arya,” her mother scolded, “we’re not giving you a choice. We have been far too lenient with you lately. Go with your brothers. I think you need some time to reflect upon your actions.”

Sighing dramatically, Arya trudged back upstairs to her room. She went out of her way to stomp extra hard on the hardwood steps, hoping to elicit a reaction out of her somewhat anal retentive mother.

“I’ll just be down here waiting!” Robb called. “When you’re ready to go, just say so and we can be on our way to receive the loving forgiveness of our Lord.”

“Robb,” Ned Stark, patriarch of the family, put a weathered hand on his son’s shoulder. “That’s enough with the Jesus talk.”

* * *

“So, Arya. I heard you punched Joffrey Baratheon right in the kisser. How did it feel to emasculate him?”

“Shut up Theon,” Arya retorted, climbing into the backseat of the Prius. “Jon!”

Her favourite brother, nicknamed Jon Snow for his role as Snow White in a weird gender-bent play directed by Renly Baratheon, waved at her from where he sat.

“Are they still calling you Jon Snow?” Arya asked curiously.

Jon grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Even though the play was in high school?”

“They think it’s funny.”

“Oh.”

The passenger door opened and Robb clamoured in, waving goodbye to the Starks that had assembled on the front porch. “We’ll see you tomorrow afternoon!”

“I can’t believe they’re letting us take her,” Theon commented as he stuck the key into the ignition. “Well I suppose it’s because you talked them into it. If it was me, I’d get thrown out on my ass.”

“Dad likes you.” Jon twiddled with the buttons on his jacket.

“Well your mom doesn’t.”

“She thinks you’re trouble,” Arya divulged. “And you would think she’s used to you. I mean, you’ve been living with us for ages.”

“Oh well,” Theon shrugged. “We’re in University now. Your brothers are first years, I’m a second year. Technically we’re adults so it’s not like I need your parents breathing over my shoulder all the time.”

“Hey!” Robb exclaimed, face pressed against the glass of his window. “You don’t take this route to go to my church!”

“We’re going the other way.”

“Jon there’s no use covering it up.”

“What are you talking about, Theon? What about covering up? Where are you guys taking me?”

“Well my young wolf,” Theon sounded annoyingly wise. “Since your initiation into the Club of Outstandingly Cool Kids—”

“I apologize for the rude acronym. We created this club in high school and the name stuck,” Jon smiled apologetically.

“—as demonstrated by beautiful injury you dealt Joffrey Baratheon, we want to congratulate you.”

“I’m still confused.”

“Therefore, we will be taking you to our secret hangout! It’s not really secret, though. It’s just out of the way.”

“I thought we were taking Arya to my church group so we can watch some of my new friends’ oral presentations on the Bible!” Robb sounded completely aghast.

Theon snorted. “Robb, the only kind of oral that goes on at 7pm on a Friday night is not the kind of oral you’re thinking about. Or maybe you are. I still can’t figure out if this whole Christian thing is for real, or if you’re hoping to pick up religious chicks.”

Jon met Arya’s confused stare and rolled his eyes. “I only agreed to this because I figured you probably didn’t want to go to Robb’s church thing.”

“Theon! Jon!” Sounding remarkably like Catelyn when she was angry, Robb reprimanded, “I cannot think of anything worse than brothers who lie to one another! You’ll go to hell if this continues!”

“Robb,” Theon snapped. “You’re a born again Christian who drives a red Prius. The only thing worse than that is having a girlfriend who takes sex tips from Cosmo seriously.”

“Or getting drunk enough to try and bang your sister,” Jon muttered underneath his breath.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again.”

Arya tuned out her brothers’ squabbling and turned her attention to the interior of the car. As usual, Robb kept his precious vehicle in pristine condition. The carpet was lush and fluffy, the leather seats smooth as butter, and the windows free of fingerprints.

Whoops, not anymore. Arya quickly pulled the offending hand away from the previously spotless window, hoping that nobody noticed.

Something was off about this whole scenario. She just couldn’t put her finger on it—hang on.

“Theon, why are you driving Robb’s car?”

“Because somebody,” Jon put an emphasis on the last word, “thought it would be a good idea to paint ‘Gospel Bus’ all over the side of the Squidmobile.”

“For the last time, it’s called the Krakenator.”

Arya stared at the back of Theon’s head, not quite understanding why the hell he did the things he did. “Why did you name your car?”

Looking up at the rear-view mirror from her position in the backseat, Arya could make out Theon faintly smiling.

“You probably didn’t know this, but in high school everyone called me the Kraken.”

“No they didn’t Theon,” Jon contradicted. “They called you Squid.”

“Squid?”

“He was all flailing limbs and prepubescent awkwardness.”

“No I was not!”

“This one time at band camp—”

“We did not go to band camp Jon!”

“Yes we did. I played the tuba.”

“Robb, you’re not helping!”

“—he just fell right into Robb’s tuba. It took all the cooking oil and mayonnaise we had to get him out.”

“GODDAMNIT JON!” Theon yelled at the top of his lungs. “THIS IS WHY YGRITTE DUMPED YOU.”

A suffocating silence took over. Arya extended a hand to her brother, hoping to somehow comfort him, but he was curled up in a ball facing the window. She looked helplessly at him, wishing he would just get over his ex-girlfriend and move on with his life.

“Jon?” Theon inquired nervously. “You know I’m not serious, right? I’m just playing with you. We’re cool right?”

Robb joined the chorus of questioning. “Jon, I do wish the best for you and God and I both agree that you will gain nothing from wallowing in the past.”

Jon said nothing.

“Shit,” Theon swore. “Shit is he crying?”

Arya tried to find any evidence of her usually stoic brother shedding tears, but he was too tightly bundled up. “I don’t know.”

“Crap, Arya give him a tissue.”

“I don’t have a tissue.”

“Well I’m driving! Robb?”

“I’m not about to ruin my good handkerchief!” Robb gasped. “A lovely lady at my parish embroidered it with my name for me!”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST GIVE IT TO HIM!”

Arya winced. Theon, for some strange reason, liked to yell a lot and not pay attention while he was driving—oh crap. “Theon, keep your eyes on the road!”

“Thou shalt not use God’s name in vain!” Robb held up his tiny crucifix like it was a shield against evil. Knowing him, he probably thought it was.

“NOBODY CARES, ROBB!”

“THEON!” Arya screeched. “PUT YOUR HANDS BACK ON THE WHEEL!”

“YOU ARE GOING TO HELL THEON. I CAN NO LONGER PRAY FOR YOUR DAMNED SOUL.”

Arya gripped the edges of her seat as Theon continued to accelerate. Trees were whipping by and she no longer recognized the scenery. They were far from Winterfell by now. A nearby sign depicting a leaping cow and an acorn loomed ahead, but she could barely make out the words in the darkness.

All of a sudden, a large creature leapt onto the road.

“COW!” Arya screamed.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, SQUIRT?”

“NO! COW ON THE ROAD!”

The car swerved out of control as its passengers cried out in terror.

* * *

Blue roses at a funeral weren’t exactly appropriate, thought Catelyn as she watched her husband place a wreath onto the casket. Ned swiped a finger across his eyes and Catelyn knew he was holding back tears.

She walked up to her husband and placed her head on his shoulders. In return, he put an arm around her, kissing her on the crown of her head.

Robert Baratheon, Ned’s best friend strode up to them, all traces of his usual swagger gone. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said somberly.

Ned looked up at him and smiled through watery eyes. “I’m sorry for our loss. Jon Arryn was a good man.”


	2. Adventures with Farmer Seaworth

The pub wasn’t that bad a place. Sure, the floors and tables were covered with a slightly sticky film and the gloomy atmosphere left something to be desired, but the pub definitely had some perks.

“So you folks mind telling me how you ended up in Flea Bottom?” The handsome barkeep asked the rather shaken-up group, his blue eyes focussed intently on Arya.

Theon gave a nervous laugh. “It’s actually kind of a funny story—”

“Maybe for you!” Jon interrupted, his eyes wide and flitting back and forth as if in some sort of craze. “I thought we were going to die,” he whispered.

Theon ignored him. “Anyways, right after Arya kindly informed me that there was a cow on the road, everything went straight to hell—shut up Robb.”

Less than an hour ago

_“MOOooooOOoooooo!”_

_Every occupant of the car was shocked in silence. Theon’s grip on the wheel was tight, his fingers slick with sweat. Robb had clutched onto every available grab handle. Jon was cowered in his seat, hands over his head. Arya tried to unlatch her fingers from the edge of her seat, but found she was unable to._

_“You just ran over a cow.” Jon’s voice, cracking with nervousness broke the silence._

_“Are you talking about the bovine that just appeared out of nowhere or Robb’s ex-girlfriend?” Theon always had a quip at the ready._

_“My ex-girlfriend was a lovely girl. And we don’t talk about that time in my life. It was a dark time.” Robb stammered. “But you just killed a living creature.”_

_“What’re we going to do?” Arya said in a whisper. “We just—no, Theon—just killed a cow. Whose cow was that?”_

_“We need to hide the evidence,” Jon affirmed solemnly. “Make sure nobody finds the body.”_

_“Jon, it’s a cow. It’s not a human.”_

_“Are you really talking about death in such an insensitive manner? Theon, I find that offensive.”_

_“I find your face offensive.”_

_“Theon now is not the time to be so immature. We need to work together and—”_

_“Guys, shut up!” Arya pointed at a figure outside her window. “There’s someone outside.”_

_“Oh god. Do you think he’s going to kill us too? Do you think we’ll be tortured to death because we killed his cow?” Jon rocked back and forth._

_“Jon, chill out.” Theon’s voice was shaky and uncertain._

_“We should get out and see what this man has to say. Come on everybody.”_

_“Robb, that’s a terrible idea.”_

_“What’re we going to do?”_

_“Well Arya that is a fantastic question. I find that in times like these it is always to the advantage of everyone if we were to form a prayer circle—”_

_“Robb, that’s an even worse idea.”_

_“For once I agree with Theon.”_

_Arya glanced out the window, trying to make out the figure of the approaching man in the darkness. He didn’t seem too threatening, but looks were deceiving. After all, she was a testament to that._

_“He doesn’t look like he’s going to kill us. I agree with Robb. Let’s see what he wants.”_

_“And here I thought you were on my side, Arya.”_

_Paying no mind to the idiocy of her foster-brother, Arya stepped out into the brisk evening air. She tried to ignore the gigantic spotted carcass near the front of the red Prius, choosing to turn her attention to his mysterious stranger._

_“Uh…hello?”_

_“Is this your car?” The man asked. He was of a slight build and his brown beard was shot through with grey. Around his neck hung an odd pouch made of leather._

_“It’s my car!” Robb stumbled out of the Prius, nearly tripping on the uneven road. “It’s mine,” he repeated._

_“You kids aren’t drunk, are you?” The strange man inquired. “If you’re drunk, I’m going to have to call the police.”_

_“We’re not drunk!” Theon yelled from his open door. “That cow just appeared out of nowhere.”_

_“I apologize for running over your cow sir. We didn’t mean to.” Robb said earnestly._

_“I suppose it was an accident. As long as nobody got hurt.”_

_“Hang on,” Arya held up a hand. “You’re not mad at us for running over your cow? Is that even your cow?”_

_The man didn’t answer. He walked over to where the carcass was and examined it with a critical eye. Then, he stood up. “It’s my cow.”_

_“Like I said, we’re truly sorry sir.” Robb continued his apologizing._

_“It’s not your fault, boy. At least it was Melisandre you ran over. I’ve been meaning to get rid of her anyways. She’s a mad cow, that one.”_

_Robb clutched at the cross around his neck. Arya and Jon exchanged nervous looks, knowing that a rant was on the way. Luckily, Robb wisely decided to keep quiet._

_“I suppose you kids will need some car repairs?” The man pointed over his shoulder at a small town just further down the road. “That town there is Flea Bottom. There’s a man, Tohbo Mott, and he can fix cars like nobody’s business…provided that you’re patient.”_

_“Do you know his number?”_

“—and that is how we ended up in Flea Bottom!” Theon concluded his story with a vigorous swig of whatever alcoholic beverage the barkeep had placed in front of him.

“Let me get this straight,” the barkeep placed his hands on the sticky countertop of the bar. “You ran over one of Davos Seaworth’s cows and got out of there alive?”

“Davos Seaworth? Is that his name?” Jon asked.

“He’s famous ‘round these parts. Owns a lot of land and uses it to grow crops and such. People call him the ‘Onion Knight’ because he grows the best onions around. Supposedly he’s a pretty scary guy though. Did you see his pouch?”

Arya perked up. “You mean the one he had around his neck?”

The barkeep smiled at her, sending a tingle down to the tips of her toes. “That’s the one. Rumour has it that he keeps his severed finger bones in there for luck.”

“Gendry, are you scaring the customers?” An attractive woman, slightly older than Theon, sauntered into the bar. “Excuse him. He’s not used to so many customers at once so this is a little overwhelming.”

“Whoa Gendry—it is Gendry, right?—I could’ve sworn you were into Arya! (Arya gave Theon a shove.) Who’s the hot chick?”

“She’s my sister,” Gendry blinked confusedly at Theon.

“See Theon? You’re not the only one with a sister complex! Thank God!” Jon mocked.

“Did I hear someone say God?”

“Go away Robb.”


	3. Hot Pie is hot?

“Seeing as you’re probably going to be in Flea Bottom for a while, I suppose it might be helpful for me to introduce you to the regulars.”

“Mya, they’re only going to stay here for one night,” Gendry said exasperatedly. “Tohbo will probably fix their car by morning. You don’t need to freak them out by telling them all about the crazy folks that live here.”

“Crazy folks?” Arya perked up. “Let’s hear all about them.”

“Well,” Mya beamed at Arya, “we’ve got quite a few of them. You’ve already met Davos.”

“The farmer dude?” Theon chimed in. “What’s so crazy about him?”

“He’s obsessed with his cows,” Mya divulged. “He’s gone and named the whole herd and he apparently speaks to them as if they’re humans.”

“He didn’t seem that bad.” Jon was trying to be polite for the sake of the man who’d given them a helping hand.

“That’s not the worst part. Gendry, tell them.”

Gendry sighed and laid down the grimy rag he was using to wipe glasses. “I stopped by his farm last week to pick up some groceries for the bar. Usually he invites me in and we have a chat about—”

“I’ve always wondered what guys talk about when they’re alone,” Arya injected. “Do you compare beard sizes or something? Or do you talk about your lack of feelings?”

“When I’m with my friends, we talk about Jesus.”

“Robb, nobody asked you.”

“When I’m with my friends, we have group orgies.”

“Theon.”

“When Jon’s with his friends—oh wait! He doesn’t have any.”

“Theon!”

“Can I talk now?” Gendry asked hesitantly. “You guys are probably weirder than half the townspeople.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Arya smirked up at him. He shyly grinned back.

“You are so getting someone’s phone number tonight.” Theon crowed.

Ignoring Theon, Gendry went on. “So I go inside his house because the door’s open and I thought he was expecting me. I’m walking into his kitchen, when I hear him talking. I thought he was on the phone or something, so I made sure to be quiet. On his kitchen table was the most detailed map I’d ever seen. It looked like something out of a war movie, with all these little figurines.”

“Maybe he was playing a game,” Jon suggested.

“I thought that too. But as I walked closer, I noticed that all the figurines were cows. And Davos was talking about strategy and ships a-and battles and all sorts of things that were definitely not normal.”

“The crazy old fart thought his cows were involved in some kind of war so he wanted to intervene.” Mya explained, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “You’re lucky you didn’t run over his favourite cow. If you’d killed Stannis, Davos probably would’ve stuffed your lifeless bodies into a meat grinder.”

“That poor man.” Robb shook his head sympathetically. “He’s lost in the darkness, turning to violence to make up for his lack of faith and—” He burst into hysterical sobs.

Arya sighed and moved closer to her pathetic brother. She awkwardly patted his arm. “There, there. I’m sure if you were to show him the light, he’d be really grateful.”

Behind Robb, Theon was gesticulating wildly, making X symbols with his arms and drawing a finger across his neck.

“Do you—do you really mean that?” Robb uncovered his face. He wasn’t crying at all and he’d somehow conjured a bible out of nowhere.

“Yeah whatever.” Arya dropped her hand and turned to face Gendry. “Who else should I look out for in this place?”

“Yoren.”

“Did someone mention my name?” A stooped man with grim-looking features hollered from a dark corner of the pub.

“That was just me Yoren.”

“Is some bastard looking for a fight? I’ll give him a fight he’ll remember. My knife is so keen; I could shave a spider’s arse!”

“Yoren, nobody is looking for a fight. And can you please stop using that analogy?”

“That’s Yoren?”

“That’s Yoren.”

“He seems a little dangerous,” Jon observed. “We should probably keep our distance.”

“Dangerous?” Theon laughed dismissively. “That guy is a kitten compared to me.” He pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth, letting it dangle there while he presumably searched for a lighter.

“Hey!” Gendry exclaimed. “No smoking in the bar!”

Theon’s head shot up. “What? No, I don’t smoke.”

Everyone looked at him confusedly.

“Smoking kills!” Theon said in an exasperated voice. “I just like to have a cigarette dangling from my mouth because it really fits into this whole brooding, mysterious guy persona I’m trying to cultivate,” he explained in a whisper.

“Unbelievable,” said Jon.

“Hey Mya!” Theon waved at the girl. “Am I turning you on yet?”

“Since when did you think smoking was attractive?” Arya asked. She prepared herself for a possibly nonsensical answer.

“Would this be around the same time you thought skinny jeans in fluorescent colours would make you more appealing to girls?” Jon looked up at the ceiling contemplatively.

“That was a dark time for me.”

“Not with those jeans it wasn’t.”

“Shut up Jon.”

“Yoren is harmless.” Mya butted in, brushing Jon’s earlier worries away with a sweep of her hand. “The only thing you should worry about when it comes to him is the hearing damage you’ll get when he starts singing karaoke.”

Theon laughed. “That guy? Karaoke?”

“Don’t laugh,” Gendry warned. “Yoren is a huge fan of Journey but he only knows like, five songs.”

“Do you know how quickly ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ can become your most hated song?” Mya asked. “That’s why we try to keep karaoke days at the pub on the down low. Or if we do have them, we get Yoren drunk enough so he’ll pass out.”

“Gendry!” Another voice bellowed from the kitchen behind the bar. “Gendry? Where the hell are—there you are!”

Arya watched as a boy stepped into her line of vision. And then she gasped. He was the hottest person she had ever seen grace the surface of the Earth. Shaggy dark hair fell into sparkling, warm brown eyes and even though he was clad in a dirty apron, Arya could make out the shape of a body that was well taken care of. If Sansa was here, thought Arya, she would be drooling.

Robb scuttled up to the newcomer. “Can I interest you in the teachings of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?”

“Can you please watch where you’re waving that crucifix?”

“What is it?” Gendry rolled his eyes. “Did you forget where your oven mitts were?”

“Gendry,” Mya scolded. “Don’t be so mean to Hot Pie.”

Theon and Jon burst into laughter. “Your name is Hot Pie?” Jon choked through manly giggles.

“It’s my nickname,” Hot Pie whined, stomping his foot.

All thoughts of Hot Pie being the most gorgeous guy on Earth promptly vanished from Arya’s mind as she watched a boy her age throw a minor temper tantrum.

“—and I hate it when people make fun of it! Why do you keep calling me that? I hate it!”

“Calm down.” Mya patted his back soothingly. “Now what was it that you wanted to tell Gendry?”

“Oh.” Hot Pie stroked his dimpled chin contemplatively. “Oh! Uh, can you take out the garbage?”

“No,” Gendry replied. “Do it yourself.”

“But it’s dark!”

“Do it yourself!”

“You’re older than me!”

“Yeah, so you should respect your elders and take out the damn garbage on your own.”

“Mya!” Hot Pie drew out her name. “Tell Gendry to take out the garbage!”

“Gendry,” Mya pleaded. “Just do it. Do you really want a repeat of last Tuesday?”

“Fine.” Gendry dropped the rag he was holding and began to make his way to the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Arya volunteered.

Jon slammed his drink down onto the table. Mya winced at the noise. “No you won’t! Not while I’m alive!”

“Shut up and sit down,” Theon yanked Jon back into his seat.

“I cannot allow my sister to be alone with a man!” Robb declared.

Arya met Theon’s eyes. He nodded. “Go my little wolf,” he commanded. “Run like the wind!”

“You coming?” Gendry asked, extending a hand toward her. She grasped it.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” She could hear the tortured screams of Jon as she walked away with Gendry. As she turned to look back at them, she saw Theon dive-bomb an escaping Jon, dragging Robb into their mosh pit. Mya stood above them with an expression of horror.

“Is some bastard looking for a fight?” A scratchy voice yelled loudly. “I’ll give ‘em a fight they’ll remember!”

* * *

 " _You have reached the cellular device of Robb Stark. I am not available right now, but if you leave a message, I will get back to you as soon as He wills it. May God bless you and deliver you from the temptations of Hell. And if you’re calling to receive my Reconciliation services, please leave your confession after the beep!” *BEEP*_

“Robb, this is your mother calling. You haven’t replied to any of my calls and I know you’re usually very diligent about doing so. I just want to know how Arya is doing and if she’s having fun at this retreat of yours. Please call me back. Oh and this is your mother in case you were wondering.”

Catelyn placed the phone back onto its receiver, her face a mask of worry.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked, trying to undo the knot of his ‘#1 DAD’ apron. “Are the kids alright?”

“I don’t know. Robb hasn’t called back.”

“Robb?” Ned gaped disbelievingly. “He’s usually so responsible and he always calls back. Half of the time, he calls without us wanting him to. Maybe you called the wrong number? All of our kids have pretty similar numbers.”

“Do any of our children offer Reconciliation services over the phone?”

“Good point.”

“Maybe we should drive up there. Just to make sure they’re okay,” Catelyn wrung her hands nervously. “I’m worried they got into a car accident or something.”

“Don’t worry. Robb is such a careful driver and they’re all adults. I’m sure they’re perfectly fine.”

“Are you sure? What if they got into a fight at the church with some perpetually drunken buffoon who has the mouth of a sailor?”

“Catelyn, you’re overthinking this. Robb, Jon, and even Theon would never do that.”

“And Arya!” Catelyn nearly shrieked. “What if she’s off…fraternizing with a boy in some dark corner?”

“For Arya, fraternizing with boys means beating them up until they submit to her. I highly doubt she’s discovered the opposite sex yet.”

“I just hope they’re okay,” Catelyn stared out the window.

Ned put an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I am positive that they are doing just fine and they’re having the time of their lives.”

Meanwhile, in a pub located in the tiny town of Flea Bottom, three brothers were wrestling a perpetually drunken, sailor-mouthed buffoon while their sister was off fraternizing with a boy in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented and kudos-ed!


	4. You're Interested in What?

"I guess Hot Pie wasn't kidding when he asked you to take out the trash for him," mused Arya as she perched herself on the edge of what she hoped what a somewhat clean crate.

"Of course he wasn't kidding," Gendry grunted, tossing another black plastic bag into the dumpster. "Any chance he gets, he makes me do the back-breaking labour."

"He does seem like a wimp."

"He is a wimp." Gendry turned and smiled at Arya.

His smile was slightly lopsided, thought Arya. And he only had a dimple in one cheek. But somehow, it worked for him.

"So," Gendry wiped his hands down the front of his hopelessly wrinkled shirt. "Where are you from, Miss Arya?"

"Not here," she responded.

"Well, I can tell that much. I'm being serious though. Where are you from?"

"Up North," Arya divulged.

"So what are you then?"

"Pardon?"

"A Manderly? A Mormont? No you're not a Mormont. A Bolt—no you don't have the Bolton look either. Are you a Stark?"

"Excuse me?" Arya said indignantly. "Since when did this turn into an interrogation?"

"I'm just curious." Gendry shrugged. "I'm just wondering how a bunch of kids your age ended up in Flea Bottom. It's not exactly a big city."

"It's a long story," groaned Arya, placing her head into her hands.

"I have time." Gendry sat next to her on the crate.

"You sure you want me to tell you? It's pretty embarrassing."

"All the more reason I want to know."

* * *

"Yoren, get off of them!"

"Theon, stop pulling my hair!"

"Goddamnit Jon, that wasn't me! Is someone just hit me with a bible?"

"JESUS DOES NOT APPROVE OF PHYSICAL VIOLENCE!"

"Now which one of you bastards is doing karaoke without me?"

"Robb, hitting your brothers with religious objects does not make your fighting religious!"

"I SHALL NOW BATHE YOU WITH HOLY WATER!"

"Mya, help!"

"Robb, that's not holy—!"

_SPLASH!_

"—water."

* * *

"So I was right then," said Gendry. "You are a Stark."

"What's the big deal? I'm a Stark. So what?"

"Well your family is pretty well known. I really admire how your father—"

"Why are you so interested in my family? Are you another stalker or something?" Arya accused.

Gendry blushed and Arya felt slightly bad for being so upfront. "I'm a big fan of Ned Stark."

Arya crossed her arms, any previous interest in Gendry snuffed out. "So you're another one of my dad's fanboys," she said harshly. "Or maybe you're more into my Uncle Tony? Well I'd hate to break it to you, but I'm exactly interested in getting either of their autographs for you."

"What? No, that's not it!" Gendry shook his head furiously. "I just really admire how your dad is pulling away from the whole oil industry thing and trying to push for renewable energy and clean technology."

"So you've done your research," Arya nodded contemplatively. "I'm still getting creepy vibes from you. Maybe you believe that by buttering me up, I'll feel like putting in a good word for you with the big fellows?"

"No!" Gendry shouted. "I'm genuinely interested in you!"

"You're genuinely interested in what?"

* * *

"And the next time you start a fight in my pub, I swear to God Almighty—shut your mouth Robb—that I will rain Hell—Robb, _I am warning you_ —on your asses!"

"I'm sorry Mya. Theon started it!"

"No I didn't, Jon. You were the one who was trying to hold Arya back! Sometimes, you just need to let a wolf fly."

"That makes no sense."

"Lemme get this straight. So there was no karaoke?"

"No Yoren, there was no karaoke."

"Why do you mean there was no bloody karaoke? You sorry sons of whores lied to me!"

"Yoren, you must learn to control your temper. Once you accept Jesus in your heart—"

"Yoren, stop! Put your pants back on—RUNNING OUTSIDE IN THE NUDE WON'T SOLVE ANYTHING!"

"I beg to differ."

"Theon, now is not the time."

* * *

"You're from a big family too?"

Gendry nodded. "That's right. But it's just me and Mya in Flea Bottom. My brother—his name's Edric—is studying abroad. And I have another sister who lives down South."

"Do you get along with your other siblings?" Arya asked, slowly inching closer to him.

Gendry took note of her wandering hands and hesitantly moved his own to cover hers, not quite meeting her eyes. "I suppose so," he replied, the tips of his ears reddening. "I don't talk much to Bella, but I get along well with Mya and Edric. What about you? You've told me all about your siblings but I still don't know if you all get along."

"My favourite brother is Jon," Arya said resolutely. "Although I do like Bran. Robb is alright when he's not being annoying. Rickon is quite young so there's nothing really for us to fight about. I guess I have a pretty complicated relationship with my sister. Sometimes we fight horribly, but sometimes we get along really well."

"Isn't Theon one of your brothers?"

"He's adopted, but he's part of the family. And I pretend not to know him. One time he babysat me and Bran and it was a complete disaster."

Gendry chuckled. "What happened?"

"I'd rather not say," Arya raised her chin and leveled Gendry with a look of faux-arrogance. And then she burst in giggles.

"What's so funny?"

Arya shrugged, still chortling. "You're really cute," she said. "I've never met anyone like you before."

"Neither have I." Gendry's smile was soft.

Arya quickly glanced away from his eyes. She could feel his hand squeeze hers slightly. "Then I suppose it's a good thing we met each other." She turned to look at him as she spoke boldly.

"You know," he confessed, "if it weren't for the fact that your brothers are inside waiting to either kills me or recite the entire New Testament in Latin—which is technically a dead language—I'd be kissing you right now."

"Wanna test that theory?"

"That depends," Gendry murmured thoughtfully. "Can Robb speak Latin?"

Ignoring that, Arya leaned closer and pressed her lips against his.

* * *

"I'm getting this chill up my spine. Do you guys feel it?"

"Jon, I told you not to chase Yoren without a jacket," Robb reprimanded. "Now you're going to get a cold."

"No, that's not it." Jon shook his head then winced slightly. He pressed the ice pack against the swelling bump on his temple.

"What the heck?" Theon nearly dropped the steak over his black eye as he pointed past Robb at Mya who seemed to be rearranging some tables.

"Yoren's upset," Robb explained. "I think Mya's setting up some karaoke for him."

"That's not what I was looking at! I'm looking at you, Robb."

"Why Theon, that is very flattering."

"No you idiot," Theon slapped Robb across the face with the bloody steak. Robb ducked just in time. "How come Jon and I look like we just got out of a fight with the Clegane brothers and you're completely spotless?"

Robb looked confused. "I have the power of Jesus on my side."

Before Theon could answer, there was a screech of feedback from the speakers.

"Err…sorry about that everyone," Mya said into the microphone. "It seems like we'll be hanging an impromptu karaoke session tonight."

"Awww yeah!" Yoren pumped his fists in the air.

"So I guess Yoren wants to go first?" Mya handed the microphone to him.

Yoren grabbed the microphone and staggered on stage despite the fact that he was most definitely sober. ("Drunk people don't sock you in the eye with that much force!" Theon had argued.) "I'm gonna dedicate this one to my sorry sons of whores over in that there corner," he yelled. "This one is for you." Then the opening chords of "Don't Stop Believin'" started.

"If you'll excuse me," Robb said, placing his Bible onto the table, "I think I'll be joining him."

"You're not serious," said Jon disbelievingly.

"Of course I am! Why, I always partook in karaoke with the family whenever we played Rock Band!"

"I thought you did it because nobody else wanted to," muttered Jon.

"I thought he did it because he lacked the hand eye coordination for everything else," said Theon under his breath.

"I do hope you'll cheer for me. Wish me luck!"

"He's going to embarrass himself."

"Jon, I hope you brought your phone."

"Why Theon, I never leave home without it."

"Good, good. I wonder what our lovely siblings will make of this."

"Hopefully a video."

"Jon?"

"Yes, Theon?"

"That's why I asked if you brought your phone."

"Oh—oh I thought you were imitating Robb."

"Wow. You two _are_ related."

* * *

"Ow." Arya rubbed the back of her head.

"Sorry," Gendry apologized. "Was I too rough?"

"No," she said, still rubbing the painful area. "I think I leaned back too far and hit my head on the dumpster."

"Do you want to go inside?"

"I'd rather stay out here," Arya said cheekily.

"Me too," Gendry agreed. "But it's cold and as much as I'm enjoying this, I'd rather be inside and far away from a dumpster."

Arya nodded reluctantly. "Good point."

Standing up, Gendry offered a hand to her. "M'lady?" He mock-bowed.

Arya knocked his hand away. "I can get up myself." She stood up and took his hand in hers.

"Shall we?" They began walking into the pub.

"Fine," she sighed. "But I thought all boys liked making out in front of dumpsters."

Gendry laughed. "I'd rather make out with you somewhere where it doesn't smell like garbage."

"Bold, aren't we?" She teased. "Then you probably shouldn't come to my house."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Possibly, but—what the hell?" Arya dropped Gendry's hand and stared. Occupying one of the tables inside the pub were Theon and Jon. Jon was holding an ice pack up to his head, while Theon nursed a black eye with what she hoped was a steak.

"What happened?" Gendry said beside her.

Arya didn't respond. Horrible, more horrifying than her brothers' injuries was…Robb. He was standing on makeshift stage next to Yoren and he was—it was too terrible to comprehend _._ She ran right to her brothers.

"Is Robb… _rapping_?"

"My little wolf!" Theon cheered. Then his expression turned solemn. "My little wolf, the only time you hear 'Robb' and 'rap' in the same sentence is when you're talking about how his girlfriend got a pregnancy scare because he didn't wrap his—owch Jon! Goddamnit fine, I'll stop."

"Ignore him," Jon said, retrieving his ice pack after having thrown it at Theon's head.

"Who?"

"Both of them."

"Your family is so weird," Gendry said fearfully.

"Don't chicken out now, lover boy." Theon cackled. "It's only going to get worse from here on out."

"Don't encourage him!" Jon glared at Gendry. "You and I are going to have a talk later. Well, not exactly. I'm going to talk and you're going to listen." He then turned his attention to Arya. "So what is it that you like about this boy?"

"Uhh Jon, have you gotten a good look at his face?"

"Theon, I was asking Arya, not you."

Arya huffed and stomped her foot. "Jon, stop it!"

"Yeah Jon!" Theon echoed. "I mean, we were somewhat supportive when you were going through that whole exorcist phase!"

"Your brother went through an exorcist phase?" Gendry whispered to Arya.

"Robb's fault," she responded.

"Robb was trying to turn us into born again Christians."

Arya shook her head sadly. "It all started with Jon and he's stopped trying ever since."

Theon's eye widened. "One time, I woke up in the middle of the night and there was salt everywhere."

"Salt?" Gendry scratched his head.

"And holy water." Theon nodded. "At least I think it was holy water."

"Wow, I'd forgotten about that," Arya said. "And we thought Robb was bad."

Suddenly, Robb popped up from behind Arya and slung his sweaty arms around her and Gendry's shoulders. "Are you talking about the time Jon tried to exorcise Theon?"

"I thought you were singing," said Jon, unimpressed.

"I STILL AM!" Robb yelled into the microphone. "WOOO! GO JESUS!"

"I think I'm going to go to bed," Jon muttered.

"That's right! Where are we going to sleep for the night?" Arya pointed out.

"Mya said we can crash upstairs." Jon explained. "I think she's just gone to set some bedding up for us."

Theon grimaced. "As much as I'd love to stay here and watch Robb continuously make an ass out of himself, I think I need some shuteye."

Jon turned to her. "Arya? Are you going to bed?"

Arya looked at Gendry. He nodded, gesturing for her to join her brothers. _I'll see you tomorrow?_ She mouthed.

He nodded.

"Alright, I'm coming."

"GOODNIGHT ROBB!" Theon raised his voice over the din. "WE'RE GOING TO BED!"

"DON'T FORGET TO SAY YOUR PRAYERS!"

* * *

The next morning, the Stark siblings had to nearly drag themselves out of bed. Downstairs, Mya and Gendry were making breakfast while patrons of the pub dragged themselves around in the lethargic manner that usually accompanied wild Friday nights.

"Good morning sleepyheads!" Mya greeted. "I hope you guys got a good night's sleep."

Arya waved in response, sitting a little ways away from a homeless man.

"I had to share a bed with Robb." Jon rubbed his eyes. "And he kept stealing the covers."

"Hey, don't blame me for that," Theon said defensively. "Coin tosses are totally fair." When Arya glared at him suspiciously, Theon whispered to her, "But I suppose it's not fair if you're using a doubled-headed coin."

"Where is Robb by the way?" Jon asked. "When I got up, he wasn't there."

Mya pointed at the homeless man sitting a few seats away from them. "He's over there."

"Robb?" Theon poked him with his fork.

"He's got a hangover," Gendry informed. He was handsome, even in a disgusting sweatshirt that depicted the name of some prestigious university.

"Robb? A hangover?" Jon and Theon said simultaneously, their voices shocked.

"He was partying with Yoren until the wee hours. Eventually Yoren left to go home, but Robb kept singing karaoke by himself."

Jon was glaring at Gendry. "Hang on. I know you."

"Are you drunk?" Arya asked. "We met last night."

"Of course you know him!" Theon slapped the table. "He's our future brother-in-law!"

Jon ignored the two. "I've seen you before."

"Maybe at the rehearsal dinner?"

Robb lifted his head at the raised voices. He squinted his bloodshot eyes and stared at Gendry. "Your face does seem familiar," he croaked. "Perhaps we've crossed paths in church?"

Suddenly, Jon stood up. "You're in Professor Baelish's Econ 110 class!"

"Maybe you recognize him from the stag party—hey you're the scholarship kid!"

Robb perked up. "I recognize your face as well. I once offered to show you the path to enlightenment and you refused. You _atheist_." Robb hissed, retreating back to the end of the bar where he presumably started to plot Gendry's demise.

"Scholarship kid? Atheist?" Arya looked at Gendry.

"What? I thought he was going to sell me drugs!" Gendry defended himself.

Jon slapped Gendry on the back. "You're a smart fellow. You're involved with the community and you're a fantastic addition to the water polo team—which I admittedly did not make the cut for. I approve."

"I feel like I'm missing something here," said Arya.

Suddenly, there was a honk from outside. Theon ran to the window. "It's Robb's sissy-ass car! Mott's fixed it! We can go home!"

Jon was the only one who cheered. Robb did sort of a half-hearted wave and slunk back down.

Gendry cleared his throat. "I suppose I can call you sometime?"

Arya smiled, a little sadly, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Definitely. Winterfell isn't so far from here. And if you go to the same university as my brothers, we can always meet up."

Gendry nodded. "So you're not totally adverse to me calling you my girlfriend?"

"As long as you don't mind me calling you my boyfriend."

They stared into each other's eyes for a long time, leaning closer together.

"Hey! Just because I said I approve doesn't mean you guys can make out in front of me!" Jon yelled.

"Ignore him," Theon advised. "He's just jealous because he has nobody to make out with."

"Shut up, Theon!"

Arya laughed and when she least expected it, Gendry grabbed her by the arm and kissed her right in front of all the pub's occupants. Everyone cheered.

"No! No that is not okay!" Jon threw a tantrum, stomping his feet and waving his cutlery around like a petulant child. "NO PHYSICAL CONTACT!"

Theon grabbed his glass and tapped repeatedly on it with his knife. "My little wolf is growing up," he said, wiping invisible tears of manliness away.

Arya tightened her grip around Gendry's neck to keep from falling. They paid no attention to her brothers, immersed in their own little world.

"Owch!" Gendry pulled away and rubbed at the back of his head. "Who threw that bible at me?"


	5. Epilogue

The interior of the Stark house was warm and cheery, the perfect atmosphere for their annual Christmas party. Huge wreaths marked the front entrance while tastefully decorated Christmas trees in themes of silver and white ("It's for a white Christmas!" Rickon had justified.) were placed periodically throughout the large foyer and living room. Even the smell of Christmas permeated the air; it was the scent of pine trees, mulled wine, and Catelyn's homemade gingerbread cookies. The house was definitely ready for a Christmas party, but were its inhabitants?

Arya pulled at the wool of her sweater. Every single Christmas, her father insisted that each Stark wear their matching Christmas sweaters to help spread the Christmas spirit. Arya could have sworn that they were just one decoration-related prank away from being forced to going carolling.

"Dad, my sweater's itchy," Bran complained.

"Bran," Catelyn said. "You know that you have to wear your sweater. Nan knitted it for you."

"But mom!" Sansa joined in. "They're embarrassing! I don't want to wear them."

"It's no use complaining, kids. Your father said you have to wear them and besides, it's only for one night."

Arya stared down at her sweater. All the siblings' sweaters had embroidered wolves on them. Her wolf had yellow eyes and it would have looked cool if it was a design on a t-shirt. She sighed. Gendry was coming to the party and she wasn't exactly keen on him seeing her like this.

"Why does my sweater have some sort of mutant on it?" Theon's voiced echoed down the stairs. "Jon, look! Look! What the heck is that supposed to be?"

"No yelling!" Catelyn scolded. She turned to Bran, Sansa and Arya. "Now go and finish getting ready. We are expecting guests."

Bran walked into the living room and soon, Arya could hear the opening strains of some jazzy Christmas song being played on the piano. Sansa huffed and stomped upstairs to her room, her feet taking extra care to make as much noise as possible. Arya rolled her eyes and followed her sister, but paused on the landing before heading into Theon's room to see what all the commotion was about.

"What's going on?" She asked, poking her head in the doorway.

"Arya! Look at this! Look!" Theon flew off his bed and waved a sweater in her face. "Look, look, look!"

Arya snatched the offending article out of his hands. "What am I looking at?"

"My Christmas sweater! What the heck is that supposed to be?"

Arya looked. Like all the Starks, the sweater was decorated in white and grey. However, the wolf on the front looked strange. "Your wolf has eight legs."

"I know! But what is it supposed to be?"

Jon walked up behind her and stared at the sweater over her shoulder. "It looks like Nan made a mistake."

Arya turned the sweater upside down. The wolf had awfully wobbly legs. It looked like an octopus from this angle. "It looks like an octopus," she pointed out. "Where's Robb, by the way?"

Jon shrugged. "He's out. Said he'll be back before dinner." He cocked his head. "That does look like an octopus."

Theon held the sweater up to eye-level and examined it critically. "But it has the head of a wolf."

"Theon, are you really trying to understand what goes on in Nan's head?" Jon complained. "That woman gets a kick out of scaring kids with ghost stories and spiking everyone's tea when they aren't looking."

"You have to admit, that was pretty genius of her."

"True enough. I don't know how I would have gotten through Robert Baratheon's birthday dinner otherwise."

"Just wear it," Arya said. "Dad's going to freak out if you don't."

"Will he?" Theon questioned. "If I get him drunk enough—"

"Not a good idea," Jon cut in. "My girlfriend's coming tonight and I don't want her to think I live in a family of drunkards."

"Your girlfriend?" Theon and Arya said simultaneously, the latter perking up immensely.

"I didn't know you invited her!" Theon gave Jon a mock-shove.

"I didn't even know you had a girlfriend," Arya murmured. "To think, there's a girl that can stand your sensitivity for long enough to want to date you."

"Don't laugh! Val is a very nice girl!"

"Have you met her?" Arya asked Theon.

"Nope," he answered. "But I'm looking forward to it. How much you wanna bet that Jon doesn't get laid over the Christmas break?"

"That's disgusting!" Arya gagged. "Ten dollars," she said after a pause.

"Stop betting on my relationship," Jon threw a pair of balled-up socks at Theon's head. "And don't encourage Arya to gamble."

Just before Theon could respond with a witty, yet halfway insulting quip, Catelyn called the kids to come downstairs.

"Put the sweater on, Squid. Guests are going to be here soon." Jon took the sweater from Arya's hands and threw it at Theon's head. "And hurry up."

Theon picked the sweater off his head and frowned at it. "If I see a single picture of me in this, I am going to burn all your hair gel."

* * *

"Oh Arya, can you please help me with the turkey—Rickon! Rickon, _put the matches away_ —and didn't I tell you to put your sweater on—Rickon, mommy said you can't play with the matches!" A frazzled Catelyn said. Her hair and clothing were somehow immaculate, but everything else about her seemed exhausted and messy. "Rickon! The matches are for lighting _only the candles_! Arya, can you turn off the oven? And where is your father?"

Arya skulked through the kitchen. Turning the oven off, she looked around for any sign of her father. He wasn't there. "I don't know where dad is."

"Well, can you find him?"

Arya walked through the connecting door to the dining room where Sansa and Bran were setting up like the well-behaved children they were. "Have you guys seen dad?"

"Nope."

"Not since lunch. And shouldn't you be helping?"

"I am," she responded to a disgruntled Sansa.

"Then can you help us?"

"No can do," Arya shrugged. "Mom told me to find dad. Catch you later." Then she speed-walked out of the dining room before either of them could respond.

"Check his study!" Bran, ever-so helpful and all around good kid Bran suggested.

"Thanks!" She called back.

* * *

"Hello? Is anybody in here?" Arya said into the darkness of the study. Hearing no answer, she turned and was about to walk away when the lights were flicked on.

"HOLY SH—!" She screeched, silenced by a hand over her mouth.

"It's only me! Relax, it's only Jon!"

Almost collapsing to the ground, Arya placed a hand over her chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. Why are you in dad's study without dad?"

"What do you mean without dad? He's right there." Jon pointed to the mahogany desk where Ned Stark, patriarch of the powerful Stark family was sitting; he was motionless.

"Shhh!" Theon scolded, waving his hands over his head. "If Catelyn hears us, we're screwed."

"Why are we screwed if mom hears us?"

"My little wolf," Theon slung an arm around her, preparing another one of his condescending and completely unnecessary speeches. "It's Christmastime at the Stark household. Do you really want to get caught up in that?"

"Is this where you hide whenever mom's asking for help?"

"Only during Christmastime," Ned corrected.

"Even you?"

"I have to force you kids to wear the sweaters. That should count as helping out."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Dad, why do we even have to wear these sweaters?"

"It's a tradition."

She scoffed. "Yeah, well the last time someone used that as an excuse, the Mormonts ended up calling the police because a certain somebody dressed up as Santa Claus and snuck into their house."

"Arya, I apologized for that."

"Dad," Jon chimed in, "you're the reason why Jorah Mormont is scared of Christmas. They had to send him aboard to get counselling."

"You instilled a fear of Christmas into an innocent man," Theon said, shaking his head sorrowfully. "Now he can't come within four feet of a Yule log without crying hysterically."

"Is that why the Mormonts keep turning down my invitations for dinner?"

All four inhabitants of the study turned at the new voice. Standing in the doorway, wearing an apron covered with what looked suspiciously like blood (but was probably gravy), stood Catelyn Stark. The fury in her eyes was unparalleled.

"Catelyn, dearest!" Ned stood up. "I was just telling the kids why it's always important to help your mother!"

"Fantastic!" Catelyn said. "Now you can start by setting a good example and HELPING ME WITH THE FOOD!"

"I'm going to set the table," Arya called out, slipping out the door.

"Hey, don't leave us here to die!" Theon reached his hand out towards her.

* * *

"My dear family!" An excited Robb burst through the front door. "I have returned!" He said, spreading his arms wide. Underneath his Christmas sweater, he wore a grey robe; a crown of leaves adorning his head.

"I thought you would have dressed up as baby Jesus," Theon remarked on Robb's attire.

"Jesus?" Robb shook his head. "Well, Father Luwin told me that I didn't need to come back to the Church, so I have given up on Christianity!"

The Starks were silent. Then, all the kids cheered loudly, hugging one another and nearly sobbing with joy. Jon cleared his throat, looking meaningfully at Theon who grudgingly handed him a ten dollar bill. Ned fought back a smile, while Catelyn's expression was a frozen mixture of confusion and glee.

"I've decided to create my own religion!"

The cheering abruptly stopped. Theon cleared his throat at Jon, who sighed and returned the money.

"I'm so excited to start worshipping the heart trees. In fact, I went out a bought a van today! It's white—to represent the purity of the heart trees—and it has tinted windows in case anyone wants to worship privately."

"You bought a car?" Catelyn's voice was a whisper.

"Technically it's a van. And because I've a bit of an artistic flair, I spray-painted heart trees all over the sides."

"Where did you get the money to buy a car?" Ned asked.

"Oh, it's second-hand, but it's in fantastic condition. I mean, once you clean up all the bloodstains, you can barely tell it's used!"

* * *

The party was in full-swing. Family and friends of the Starks were milling about the house, eating delicious food and mingling with people they pretended to like. In one corner, Meera Reed was engaging in conversation with a bored looking Edmure Tully about the benefits of crocodiles as household pets. In the dining room, Wyman Manderly and Robert Baratheon were having some sort of unspoken eating competition. Manderly was winning.

p>Arya sat on the couch by herself, playing with the loose threads on her sweater. Up until now, she had been hanging out with Jon, but then his girlfriend arrived and he had proceeded to ditch her. He was now going around and introducing Val—who Arya could tell was a fake redhead, but didn't care on account of how awesome Val had proved to be—to as many people as he could, regardless of whether they cared or not.

Robb was unsuccessfully trying to convert several members of her father's country club to his new religion. They had smiled sympathetically and dropped coins into his donation box, but nobody wanted to set foot into his van.

Theon was chatting up all the semi-attractive girls under the age of twenty. He had had drinks poured over him at least four times already. Arya wasn't sure whether Theon really wanted to hook up with someone, or he was just trying to be a big enough jerk so girls would dump food on him and ruin his sweater.

Sansa was with her best friend, Jeyne Poole. The two of them were sitting in the corner, giggling and gossiping over who was best dressed and who shouldn't have even bothered to leave their house. Roose Bolton, with his offensively red paisley suit and spotted yellow bow tie, definitely fit into the latter.

Bran had struck up a friendship with Jojen Reed. They were in the living room, playing Christmas tunes on the piano and impressing every adult who loved kids. Arya thought they were showing off, but she wasn't sure.

Rickon had snuck back into the kitchen and found the lighter. Without Catelyn hovering over him, he was playing with the candles, lighting and extinguishing them over and over again. Arya supposed she should stop him, but she couldn't be bothered.

Arya frowned. Gendry wasn't here yet. He was supposed to be here. Was he not interested in her anymore? Had he found someone new? What if—?

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" She called out to no one in particular. Sprinting to the door, she yanked it open.

"Hi," an adorable Gendry said breathlessly. "Sorry I'm late." He walked into the foyer and took off his toque. "Traffic was really bad and Mya couldn't find any of my nice clothes."

Arya considered hitting him upside the head for being so late, but decided against it. Hugging him, she whispered into his ear, "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too," he said, smiling down at her.

"Are you ready to spend Christmas with my crazy family?"

"If that means I can spend Christmas with you, then bring on the crazy." Gendry leaned down and kissed her. After what felt like hours, they finally pulled apart. Gendry held her a little ways away from him, looking at her with interest.

"Are you staring at my chest?"

Gendry flushed. "No. I like your sweater," he snorted.

"It's a tradition!"

"Did someone say something about tradition?" Ned Stark popped up from practically out of nowhere.

"Who's staring at your chest?" Jon appeared from behind him.

"Since when are we your crazy family?" A faux-disappointed Theon said.

"Gendry, would you be interested in joining my new Church?"

Arya let out a little scream of frustration. Gendry just laughed and put his arm around her, leading her away from the… _less sane_ members of her family.

"I'm giving discounts to those who join today!"

Arya nuzzled her head into Gendry's chest. "My family is so weird."

"I think I like them already."


End file.
